Doleker

After a large American breakfast (titled 'The Lumberjack') in a greasy spoon, I go to pay up.  The proprietor, a bald Turkish man with a smile and gaps between his teeth, lunges from behind the counter with a lollypop.  'To make you sweeter', he says.  At first he claims not to have a middle name but when I turn my attention to the waitress he barges in.  'My third name is Cobra', he says, 'like the snake'.  He does a snakey movement with his hands.  I try to clarify.  'So do you have a name between your first and your third?' I ask.  I have unwrapped my lollypop.  'Aah', he says and writes it on a chit.  'It's Ottoman', he tells me, 'it means good, honest man'.  I ask him whether that is a fitting description.  'I don't know', he replies, 'fifty up, fifty down'.  He laughs and gives me and my friend each a loyalty card stamped twice.